Baby, Do I Smell Good?
by alien09
Summary: Our favourite duo discuss the power of the nose. Hinted BB. One-shot.


**a/n: completely mindless semi-fluff to work through writer's block and stress. enjoy!**

'Do you think I smell nice?'

Booth blinked. 'What?'

'Do I smell nice?' Brennan repeated.

'Yes?' Booth answered hesitantly. 'I'm going to be sorry I asked this, but why?'

'It was just something that Angela mentioned. She told me she always felt particularly amorous towards one of her former lovers whenever he wore a particular cologne.'

'Well, I'd think it'd be hard to be even remotely interested in someone if they smelled _bad_ Bones.'

'Studies have shown that how a person smells gives us an insight into their genetic makeup and whether they would be a compatible mate.'

'Oh for the love of,' Booth started in exasperation. 'You can't just break down the chemistry between two people into scientific mumbo jumbo. It just is what it is Bones.'

'I'm just saying that there is a strong link between the way a person smells and forming an attachment to that person. For example, research shows that most children recall the way their mother used to smell like as infants.' Brennan turned to face Booth expectantly.

'Like baby powder and earth,' Booth admitted grudgingly. 'What did your mother smell like?'

'I don't remember.' Brennan's reply was expected.

Booth looked to the side. It had been a few months since they had discovered Christine Brennan's remains in Limbo. To all intents and purposes, his partner seemed more than okay. She slaved away in the lab and went out and arrested bad guys with him – normal. But Booth had caught Brennan staring off into space vacantly more than once, had noticed how she had withdrawn into herself a little bit more.

'She smelled like…cookie dough and clean linen with a hint of pot purri.' Brennan's answer was quiet. Booth returned Brennan's small smile, nudging her shoulder gently. _Thanks_.

'There's more to falling in love than smell Bones.'

'Of course,' Brennan said. 'The physical and emotional attributes of a potential mate must also be taken into consideration.'

'You make a relationship sound like one big checklist.'

'Not a checklist per say,' Brennan corrected him. 'Though it is normal that one enters into any sort of romantic association with a preconceived notion of what we want. Our potential mate is then juxtaposed against those notions and we eventually decide whether the relationship is worth pursuing.'

'You're making love sound so…_clinical_.'

'I'm a forensic anthropologist Booth-'

'So you like to remind anyone that breathes,' Booth muttered, earning him a reproachful glare from Brennan.

'-I therefore look at everything from a purely objective, scientific point of view.'

'Love is _emotional_ Bones! It's messy and complex and something that I think no one has yet come close to defining.'

'Love is a variable then?' Brennan questioned.

'Let's drop the squint speak and pretend that, you know, we don't have three PhDs.'

'_We _don't have three PhDs. _I _do.'

'Right,' Booth simply said, giving her a look. 'What I'm saying is that when two people are good for each other, they just _know_ okay? They don't stop and check to see if their chemical whatever is firing on all cylinders. They just look at her and _know_.' Noticing Brennan's blank stare and feeling slightly pained that Brennan had never truly experienced love first hand, Booth switched tack.

'Alright, how about this - what would your ideal man smell like?'

'You know I dislike conjecture Booth.'

'Just go with me on this one here, okay Bones?'

'Well, if I was forced to make a completely spontaneous-'

'_Bones_.'

'The ocean.'

'The ocean,' Booth said again, incredulously. Brennan flashed him an irritated look.

'Yes, _the ocean_. A large body of water that-'

'I know what an ocean is Bones. I don't need the version thanks.'

'I find aquatic scents stimulating. They bring me a measure of comfort, which is illogical.'

Brennan looked at her partner, finding him staring at her intensely.

'What?' Her tone was self-conscious.

'Nothing,' he hastily answered, wondering if she knew that he wore _Nauticus_.

'What about you?' Brennan asked as Booth got to his feet.

Booth shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the door of her office.

'All that sweet floral stuff doesn't do it for me so clean, fruity scents I guess. I've found I've become partial to apples though.' Giving her a hearty wink, Booth disappeared.

Brennan was left speechless, realizing that her shampoo smelt exactly like green apples.


End file.
